PRESENTING...

Lucifer and Pickles! Pickles is the smaller one and (obviously) Lucifer is the bigger one. They like wrestling as it can be seen here!

The rats get a hammock, why can't I?

Sleeping sleeping lazy rats. Bascially what they do all day! Lazy buggers...

They are both boys (no babies for me, thank you, irregardless of gender or specis)

They are super friendly and love Coco pops.

So, there they are!!!

PICKLES AND LUCIFER!

PS It's Louie for short.

Goals For The Semi-New Year

1. Buy a car! (Almost there!)
2. Buy a car in a normal colour! On a three year loan :)
3. Learn to say "NO"
4. Learn to really say "NO"
5. Tone down the compassion meter
6. Really, REALLY learn to say "NO"
7. Be able to tell people when I am busy
8. Not get so caught up in what people think
9. Save enough for a trip to Norway. And be able to travel and eat. $20 for a bus ride? X(
10. Not buy so many shoes!
11. Must not lose papers connected to work
12. Watch more children's TV

Hey, for the money I'm earning *ching ching*, Barney becomes all worthwhile.

*Grin*

Work And What Not To Name A Child

Hello everyone.

Work has been consuming my life. Ah, the pain. So the updates will be slower now. So much slower.

I am working 2 jobs so I can soon (hopefully next month, *cross fingers*) afford the downpayment for a car. I'm looking at the Nissan March or Suzuki Swift. If its a March, its NOT gonna be a faggotly blue. If it's a swift, NO YELLOW.

But do I really want a seven year loan? Shall think a bit more.

WOrk, work, work.

I wish sometimes I was unemployed so that I could sleep in everyday. And when I wake up, people are having their lunch breaks. *evil laughter*

I have to clean up my room. I have to clean the house, I have to bathe the dogs. I have so much to do, yet no energy to do it.

So yes, work.

Has anyone noticed that parents in Singapore give their kids the weridest names????? Here is a top ten list of what not to name your precious bundle of overpriced bankrupting 'joy'.

1. Dewey
2. Giselle
3. Kliona
4. Zola
5. Kyrisha
6. Slanue
7. Lyniute
8. LaKyshian
9. Aapplee (not a typo, sadly enuff)
10. Baron

I am not kidding on ANY of these names. Giselle is probably the most normal, if not the most depressing.

And try pronouncing Slanue in a class and not laugh out loud. And, Aapplee is pronounced 'Apple' apparently. In which language? *sigh* Parents, sometimes...

Try pronouncing it, full stop.

So people, Aunty Fern's lesson of the day is, DON'T TORTURE YOUR CHILD.

Give her/him a name which will not cause him too much pain or embaressment. Wedgies in the playground are not pleasant what-so-ever.

Happy Belated New Year!

To all, Happy Belated New Year! The above is a present to all of you. It is a bra I am going to give to my wife. So, all of you, have the gift of X-ray vision. *muah ha ha ha ha ha*New shoes! Bright red shoes, not as if you can't see that.

Okay, Bush is an ass

Spending 6.8 billion on Iraq?

How bout the homeless in America?

All the single parents, the drug addicts, and the really really poor in the States?

Merry Christmas! God Jul!

Onion rings and Christmas make good friends. And masks. Carl Jr's has good food but HUGE servings. Go fried zuccininis!

Debby, Denise and Milla. Big big big 10 course chinese dinner. Typical chinese, fish, sharks fin, cold dish (READ: Lobster), chicken, scallops, sea cucumber, octopus and yummy yummy deserts. My god. Food was too good.

And for simple food. Chicken rice. Normal, non-australian chicken rice. Chicken perfect, rice non-mushy. Chilli sauce, bliss. This is the one at the bottom of Siglap Drive. Near my grandma's place.

So good. And the wanton soup.

SO in the spirit of the holiday, and the feasting to come,

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

Animals In Australia

Meerkats! Enuff said. Too cute. I want one as a pet. Or two. Or ten.

An emu. I do not know why they wander free either. I heard they are dangerous as well as delicious. Actually, I know for a fact that they are delicious ^.^

Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww...

Anyway, many thanks to wifie for the photos. I stole them!!! *muah ha ha ha*

She's coming to Singapore in 2days!

Anyway, despite the fact I talk about my wifie and only her face appears on me blog, I do have other friends.

I just don't know if they would like to be so umm public.

Anyway, soon wifie!!!

Ta ta!

Shut Your Eyes

This is some story I am writing. I reserve all rights. This is just chapter One but there may be more. So shut your eyes, open them, and read. Remember, take it with a pinch of salt. it's meant to be fun :)

The teenage girl (the scientific name being stripling pimply pubertas) is a mammal of the family Bitchiesus Explorus Huntis. Teenage girls are the second most intelligent human group after the adult female (brightus smartus). Their overly made-up faces, short skirts and hormonal-based behavior are easy to spot. In the wild, the teenage period may last up to ten years, many ignoring the word “teen” in the numeral system. In captivity, teenage girl behavior may last anywhere between two months and fifty years. Their weight varies greatly, but tends to range from fifty to six hundred pounds.

They are found all over the world, in every continent, in every country. Teenage girls are predatory carnivores who live in groups, commonly known as cliques. The clique, as a general rule, has five members.

The leader casts a daunting figure. She is everything the rest of the pack is not, yet so desperately crave to be. She is normally the flirtiest, most outgoing, skinniest and least clothed of the lot. If she is not the least clothed, then the tightest it shall be. Her Blackberry is a formidable weapon. The teenage queen is a superb master and defender of her pack and territory, especially the male prey of the moment. Anyone overtaking her at any point is promptly expelled from the pack.

Then, the right hand man is her clone. This is normally the best friend. Same physical qualities normally, but usually much sluttier. This is to gain the attention the clone needs. There is not much to say about the clone except she would suffer from low self-esteem. The clone is also used as a decoy for the leader to gain men flesh.

The next on the list are, usually but can contain much more, the two wingmen. Two teenage girls act as the support and props for the two above them. They usually carry out the dirty work and have to clean up after the hunt. Normally, one of the prettier girls will belong in the group. Regardless of who kills the prey, the queen usually eats her fill first with the rest of the pack staying at a respectful distance away. Typically, the queen will not tolerate outside female teen queens.

Last on this list, the sole remaining pack member. The token fat chick. There to make the rest look better. She is the one who male prey flock to in a lame attempt to win the affections of the queen and her clone.

Well, I’m that token fat chick. Blubbery, unattractive, and bait. Come here, men meat. Come, come, let us feed the insatiable appetites of the Queen and her clone. Long may she live. I live on the outskirts of the pack and feed on the scraps. I feel about thrice the size of my Queen. However, I live but to serve. Long may she live.

I often ask myself why do I even bother putting up with the abuse. I’m always there when they need someone to cry to, to whinge and whine to. But when the male of the moment makes an appearance, I am promptly forgotten. Why do I put up with everything that happens? I know, the ants to sugar theory. They missed out one thing though.
The lonliness. I am so lonely, I’m afraid my gut will tear. It’s that feeling in your throat, when you can’t breathe because this huge lump is constricting you. You desperately swallow, trying to get any air you can. This is me and them. I take what I can get. I watch and allow my shoulder to be soaked with salty warm tears.

So not only am I a tissue, I’m also a big fat virgin. A fat, fat lonely virgin whom shall never see a male naked, let alone have him want to do anything to me. Everyone else has had someone else. What about me? Is the flab really so unattractive? I know the answer to that. Yes. Fat chicks do not make good girlfriends. They do not project the image nor promote the social standing of any said teenage or early twenties boy.

For clarity and sense to enter my life, I have decided to write down my observations of teenage girl world in this journal. I will not use dates, it is of no consequence to know exactlly when all my activities occurred. Instead, I shall try and label my entries with a bit of omph, a bit of class. That’s all that I can do well. The teens are certainty a difficult time.

Welcome to my world.

Weather Wise...

Orange flowers! Again. Yes, I know!

A family picture! Haha. Ignore the fact I look like I'm pregnant. Me, the man, and my darling wifie. And the child, in my hands, Steve the Queen. Yes, Aunty Gerri, Steve the Queen can take on Bambi. And eat him alive. And spit out the bones without the marrow.

Cookie sleeping looks so innocent. Little do we know. Animals and people look so innocent when they sleep. *sigh*

I Said, "Nevermore", But I Lied

Dear Alcohol, especially in the form of Stella, Appletinis, Chocolate Martinis n CranberryVodkas,

First & foremost, let me tell you that I'm a huge fan of yours. My friend, you always seem to be there when needed. The perfect post-work cocktail, a beer with the game, and you're even around in the holiday's hidden inside chocolates as you warm us when we're stuck in the midst of endless family gatherings. However, lately I've been wondering about your intentions. While I want to believe that you have my best interests at heart, I feel that your influence has led to some unwise consequences, briefed below for your review.

1. Phone calls: While I agree with you that communication is important, I question the suggestion that any conversation of substance or necessity takes place after 2 a.m. Why would you make me call those ex-boyfriends/girlfriends when I know for a fact they do not want to hear from me during the day, let alone all hours of the night?

2. Eating: Now, you know I love a good meal, but why do you suggest that I eat a kabob with chili sauce, along with a big Italian hoagie some stale chips (washed down with chocolate Nesquik & topped off with a Kit Kat all after a few cheese curls & chili cheese fries)? I'm an eclectic eater, but I think you went too far this time.

3. Clumsiness: Unless you're subtly trying to tell me that I need to do more yoga to improve my balance, I see NO need to hammer the issue home by causing me to fall down. It's completely unnecessary, and the black & blue marks that appear on my body mysteriously the next day is beyond me. Similarly, it should never take me more than 45 seconds to get the front door key into the lock.

4. Pictures: This can be a blessing in disguise, as it can often clarify the last point below, but the following costumes are banned from ever being placed on my head in public again: Indian wigs, sombreros, bows, ties, boxes, upside-down cups, inflatable balloon animals, traffic cones, or bras. Also, what is with you making me take pictures with people I clearly don't like when I'm sober? Yet they suddenly become my best friends when a flash is presented?

5. Beer goggles: If I think I may know him/her from somewhere, I most likely do not. Please do not request that I go over & see if in fact, I do actually know that person. The phrase "let's F***" is illegal from now on. While I may be thinking this, please reinstate the brain-to-mouth-block that would stop this thought from becoming a statement, especially in public. Please stop me from talking to the guy/girl with the crooked teeth; acned-up face; bad breath; beer belly, etc. Why are they so appealing to me while I'm with you & why are they so disgusting to me the next morning after you have worn off??

6. Furthermore: The hangovers have GOT to stop. This is getting ridiculous. I know a little penance for our previous evening's debauchery may be in order, but the 3pm hangover immobility is completely unacceptable. My entire day is shot. I ask that, if the proper precautions are taken (water, vitamin B, bread products, aspirin) prior to going to me/passing out facedown on the kitchen floor with a bag of popcorn, the hangover should be minimal & in no way interfere with my daily activities.

Alcohol, I have enjoyed our friendship for some years now & would like to ensure that we remain on good terms.

You've been the invoker of great stories, the provocation for much laughter, and the needed companion when I just don't know what to do with the extra money in my pockets. In order to continue this friendship, I ask that you carefully review my grievances above & address them immediately. I will look for an answer no later than Thursday 3pm (pre-happy hour) on your possible solutions & hopefully we can continue this fruitful partnership.

Thank you,
Your biggest fan

P.S. THINGS THAT ARE DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:
1. Innovative
2. Preliminary
3. Proliferation
4. Cinnamon

THINGS THAT ARE VERY DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:
1. Specificity
2. British Constitution
3. Passive-aggressive disorder

THINGS THAT ARE DOWNRIGHT IMPOSSIBLE TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:
1. Thanks, but I don't want to have sex.
2. Nope, no more beer for me.
3. Sorry, but you're not really my type.
4. Good evening, officer. Isn't it lovely out tonight?
5. Oh, I couldn't. No one wants to hear me sing.

Distance

Yes, according to Singapore standards, where I stay is far away in the depths of the green scary isolated forest.

Yes, I get that. I also get that I normally have to drive to the person's/friend/other human's place for contact and social outings.

Irregardless of which country I am in.

I am sick of going to people.

So far, so out of the way, they bitch.

HEY!

HOW BOUT ME?

Years and years I have made the time and effort to travel up and back for all.

I am heartily sick of it.

And when I ask a favor, ONE LITTLE FAVOR, I get it smashed back in my face.

So, screw the world.

Give me some understanding here. And for once, come to me.